Naturally, my camera was out in my trunk.
Picture, if you will, a bride. A groom. The bride has her right hand lifted triumphantly. In her palm sits a small green frog. The groom, standing several inches away, has frog feet.
The day was full of other delightful surprises as well. As I left the Post Office with the early mail, I nodded and smiled at the police officer who was standing by the door to allow the patrons in and keep the homeless people out. He smiled back and said [are you sitting down? you should be!]
“And how is your pretty self today?”
My pretty self was uncharacteristically speechless, because I was remembering the conversation I had had with two attorneys at lunch earlier in the week, when one of them said that men of color tend to have a fine appreciation for women with some meat on their bones. And I had concurred, remarking that I am generally invisible to men of the vanilla persuasion, and not invisible to Latino and mocha men. [Although it has been awhile since anybody hollered ♫Ay chiquilene♫ or however the heck it’s spelled, but I still get that look from time to time.]
So yes, I pretty much floated out of the Post Office and down the sidewalk to the car. I am still grinning. I was probably grinning in my sleep.
I am definitely grinning at the progress on the Sunrise Circle Jacket. 91 rows done, out of the 103 needed before the purl ridge. I am taking a little break before heading out with the laundry and to get my glasses adjusted. [The left bow digs into my head, just a little, right behind my ear. I would like to keep that ear; I’ve grown rather attached to it.] And I am ready for breakfast.
After the wedding reception in/near Richardson last night, I stopped by the Entertainmart which is a mile or two north of the Dallas Temple. Everybody and his dog was there, or perhaps it’s better to say every mom and her stroller. But I did manage to find a copy of I Could Never Be Your Woman, The Mask of Zorro, and Time Bandits. I stayed up until after 1:00 this morning, watching The Mask of Zorro. Anthony Hopkins, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and the ever-lovely Señor Banderas. What’s not to like?
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!